As the time came to renew my lease, I decided to look for a cheaper place to live and visited a real estate agency in Nakano-Sakaue. I’ve always been drawn to the idea of living in a house, so I arranged to view a property.

The house I visited was an older two-story building, enclosed on three sides by other structures, with poor natural light. Despite its age, the interior had been beautifully renovated. Handrails were installed throughout—along the stairs, in the bathroom, and even the toilet. It was easy to imagine the kind of person who once lived there. Between the house and the towering apartment building next door, there was barely a two-meter gap. In that narrow space, a tiny garden stretched along the house. A few garden stones were placed to mimic a traditional Japanese garden, lightly covered with moss.

“What happened to the person who used to live here?” I asked the real estate agent, though I knew it was a meaningless question. He hesitated for a moment but moved on to another topic without answering.

I looked out into the yard and suddenly a large bullfrog was hopping around.

—

賃貸の家の更新に伴い、もう少し安い物件に引っ越しをしようと、中野坂上の不動産屋を訪れた。一戸建てに憧れて、物件を見に行くことにした。

訪れた一戸建ては、三方を建物で囲まれてた、日当たりの悪い、古い造りの家だが、内装はとても綺麗にリフォームをされた立派な2階建の家だった。中を見ると、風呂場やトイレ、階段などいたるところに手すりが取り付けられていた。ここにかつて住んでいた人物がすぐに想像できるものだった。隣にそびえ立つ高層マンションとの隙間は2mもない。その僅かな隙間に、とても細く小さな庭があった。庭園を真似ていくつか庭石が並べられており、うっすらと苔が覆っていた。
「ここに住んでいた方は、今はどうされたんでしょうね？」
私は、無意味な質問を不動産会社の男性に尋ねた。男性はその質問を少し受け止めて、答えずに次の話題を始めた。

庭先に目をやると、大きなウシガエルがピョンと飛び跳ねていた。